A Well-Lived Life - Book 7 - Kara II - Cover

A Well-Lived Life - Book 7 - Kara II

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Chapter 28: Sweet Home Chicago

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 28: Sweet Home Chicago - 2015 Golden Clitorides 3rd Place Best Erotic Story by a New Author. This is the continuation of the story told in "Book 6 - Kara I". If you haven't read Books 1-6, then you'll have some difficulty following the story. I strongly encourage you to read those before you begin this 7th book. Like the other books in this series, there is a lot of dialogue and introspection. There is also a lot of sex.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Mult   Teenagers   School   Incest   Brother   Sister   First   Slow  

August 1982, Chicago, Illinois

The drive between Milford and Chicago was becoming almost automatic for me — I’d stop the same places, eat the same thing, and fill up with gas at the same Amoco station. I made my usual good time and pulled up in front of the apartment building just before 6:00pm Chicago time. I got my mail from the mailbox, opened the apartment, then carried all my stuff in from the car. I moved the car from the loading zone to a parking spot, then walked to Theo’s. I collected my envelope from him and he asked if I had time to help him with something.

“What do you need?”

“A driver for later tonight. The kid who was supposed to drive me got pinched yesterday for selling dope. Not my game, by the way, I’m strictly gambling, loan-sharking, hookers, and protection. Anyway, I need you to drive me down to Halsted and 95th. There’s a guy I need to see and I want to have someone with me, just in case. I assume you still got your piece?”

“I do.”

“You shouldn’t need it, but always better safe than sorry. Come by at 9:00pm. We’ll take my car.”

I agreed that I’d see him at 9:00pm, then headed back to the apartment so I could call Kara to let her know I’d arrived safely. I reminded her how much I loved her and said that I looked forward to seeing her over Labor Day when she visited. I reminded her that she could call anytime she needed me and that I’d call next weekend for sure.

After I hung up, I unpacked my stuff, adding the contents of the envelope to the stash in my box. I was going to have to either spend money faster or find some way to let me deposit it or invest it. I’d ask Theo when I saw him later in the day. I unpacked everything and ordered a pizza. I’d need to do grocery shopping in the morning to re-stock everything I’d need because I’d more or less left the apartment devoid of food all Summer.

I put on some music and started cleaning the apartment while I waited for the pizza. I put fresh sheets on my bed, and dusted, vacuumed, or scrubbed every surface of the apartment. I wanted to make a good impression on Tatyana and I didn’t particularly like dust, so it served a dual purpose. I cleaned Elyse’s room as well, and put her sheets back on her bed, making sure everything was ready for her arrival sometime towards the end of the week. The pizza arrived midway through my cleaning and I stopped to eat a couple of slices, then put the box in the fridge. I’d eat some for lunch on Sunday before going to get Tanya at the airport.

Once I was satisfied with the state of the apartment, I read my mail. I had letters from several Swedish friends that I would need to answer. When I finished reading, I sat down at my Apple and began updating my journal, scolding myself for having made almost no updates over the Summer. I resolved to do a better job in the future as I typed furiously to complete the transcription of my hand-written notes.

I finished about 8:30pm and went to change. I put on dark slacks and a dark shirt, and grabbed my sports coat and fedora. I went down to the car and got the locked box from the trunk and took it back inside. I put on the holster, put a magazine in the pistol and pulled the slide back to chamber a round. I double-checked that the safety was in place and slid the gun into the shoulder holster.

I saw the envelope with Karin’s pictures in it and took it out and looked through them, lingering on that last picture of her lying naked on her bed. I put the pictures back in the envelope, returned it to the box, and locked it. I left the apartment and walked over to Theo’s place. He was waiting on his front steps and handed me the keys to his Ford LTD. I got in and headed for the meeting place.

“It’s a diner. All you need to do is sit at the counter and drink coffee or a Coke. Have some pie if you want. You’ll know if I need you. I don’t think I will, of course. Make sure you have a view of some empty booths so you can watch my back for me.”

“Got it,” I said. “I have a question. The cash is starting to pile up. What’s the best deal with that?”

“It depends. You got your computer business, so you could just deposit it and pay taxes on it. Nobody would be the wiser. Trust me, you give the feds their share, they leave you the fuck alone. But then you’re giving up maybe 25% of what you earn. Otherwise, I try to pay for everything with cash. If I go to the store and I buy something, I make sure I take some cash out and then cover half with my clean cash and half with my under-the-table cash. Also, if you buy gifts, always use your cash from us because nobody’s going to be able to know about that. Just never use a credit card for stuff like that. It works pretty well.”

I nodded, and we rode in silence. I thought about using consulting as cover. I wouldn’t have the vet software company, but I had made other contacts. In the end, I decided that depositing the money and paying taxes was the best course of action. After all, the Feds had gotten Capone on tax charges! Paying the taxes and listing my occupation as ‘consultant’ would eliminate that risk.

I also was considering offering paid tutoring in computer science after my experiences in helping Stephie, with the project I’d done with Papiya and Jackie, and being a lab assistant. That work just didn’t pay enough to suit me, and neither would being a TA, even if I could talk Doctor Bauer into letting me be a TA as a Sophomore, which Steve Krastev didn’t think was possible. I was sure I could get between $10 and $15.00 per hour offering tutoring. I wondered if Stephie would be interested in tutoring Chemistry. Either of us could do first year calculus as well.

We arrived at the restaurant and I walked in and took a seat at the counter. Theo waited about five minutes, then came in, carrying a briefcase. He sat down in an empty booth, facing the door, but where I could see him as well. I ordered coffee and a piece of apple pie and simply kept my eye on Theo. He ordered coffee and just as the waitress brought it, a tough looking black man sat down across from him.

I looked around and saw that there were very few people in the restaurant, but one of them, a younger black guy, was watching Theo intently. I instantly knew exactly why Theo wanted me there. The young black guy looked at me, shrugged, and turned his gaze back to the booth. The black guy pushed an envelope across the table. Theo looked inside and nodded. The black guy picked up the briefcase and walked out, and the younger guy followed him out.

Theo finished his coffee, nodded to me, and stood up. I dropped enough money on the counter to cover my order, plus a tip, and walked out to the car with Theo. We got in and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“You OK, Theo?” I asked.

“Yeah kid. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go down. I had a shitload of cash in that briefcase. I take it you saw his backup?”

“Yeah, I eyed him immediately. He was at a wrong angle, and it was obvious he was staring. I could watch you and him without looking like I was, just by looking straight ahead.”

I really wanted to know what was going on, but I wasn’t about to ask. From the look of the envelope, there could only have been photos or documents in there, and I had correctly guessed the briefcase had cash in it. I figured blackmail photos were the most likely result. With elections for Mayor and Alderman coming up in early ‘83, that could easily be it. Jane Byrne was doing a decent job as mayor, but Richard M. Daley, son of the infamous Richard J. Daley, was hinting at a run for mayor, as was a black candidate by the name of Harold Washington, who was a sitting Congressman. Of course, it could be something completely different, and it was none of my business.

We arrived back at Theo’s place and I handed him the keys after locking up the car. He thanked me for driving him and reminded me about the work I’d need to do once school started. I told him I was ready, and I’d talk to him before then, of course. I let him know I was back in Chicago for the school year and if he needed me, he should call me.

I went back to the apartment and removed the pistol from the holster, ejected the magazine, moved the slide to eject the chambered round, then put everything back in the box, locked it, and put it back in my car. I went back inside and poured myself a shot of bourbon, and sat on the couch. It was good to be back in Chicago and I felt as if I was home. I picked up my pen and paper and answered letters, then I decided to play some Star Raiders on the Atari, so I fired it up and ended up playing until 1:00am when I finally shut off the game and went to bed.

When I woke the next morning, I got out of bed, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, ran, showered, and then dressed in clean clothes. I called Karin for our weekly chat and then headed out. I stopped at a White Hen Pantry to grab a donut and coffee for breakfast, then went to Jewel to restock the apartment with food. I used cash from my box to pay for everything and headed back to the apartment, where I carried six bags of groceries and several cartons of soft drinks into the apartment. I put everything away and then heated up a couple of pieces of pizza for lunch.

After lunch, I walked to a shop down the street and bought some flowers and a couple of inexpensive vases to add some color to the apartment. I also stopped in a candy shop and bought a box of moderately priced chocolates. I took everything back to the apartment, put the flowers in the vases and set them on the dining table and the kitchen counter, put out some free-standing candles I’d purchased. I unpacked the Russian tea set and rinsed the glasses. I set the glasses in the silver holders and put them on the tray that had come with the set. I put it on the kitchen counter and then changed into clean clothes and headed for the airport.

I parked and walked into the terminal, and checked the arrivals board. Tanya’s flight was still on time, so I passed through security and then sat in a row of chairs along the wall next to the gate where her flight would arrive. I didn’t have to wait long before I saw a Boeing 727 pull onto the ramp. The Jetway was extended and a few minutes later, passengers began filing out. I was surprised when Tatyana was the fourth person from the plane, but then it dawned on me that of course she would fly in First Class! She spotted me and we met halfway between the chairs and the door that she’s come through. She hugged me lightly and kissed me Russian-style.

“Good afternoon, Stephen Rayevich,” she said in a neutral voice.

“Good afternoon, Tatyana Ivanovna,” I said. “Do you have luggage?”

“Of course! Small bag could not hold sufficient clothes for one week!”

I checked the arrival board for the baggage claim where her luggage would be and we walked there with her arm looped in mine. She was behaving very formally, as she always had in public. We made our way to the baggage claim and her bags were already on the carousel — one clear advantage of flying First Class! I picked up both bags, grabbed a cart and wheeled it out into the parking lot where I loaded them in the car after opening the door for Tanya to get into the passenger seat. I returned the cart and then quickly walked back to the car to head to the apartment.

“Is nice car! Nice, decadent capitalist car!” she said with a smile.

“That’s good, given that I’m a nice, decadent capitalist!” I chuckled.

“We must work on this, of course! It cannot be that husband of Soviet diplomat is playboy with sports car!”

“Aren’t you jumping ahead a bit? If that were to happen, it’s years down the road. I could always buy a Mercedes or BMW later. Or are those also decadent? If so, perhaps a Volvo or SAAB would be better?” I teased.

“Socialist car is better, of course! A Zil!” she smirked. “But I tease only. You have very nice car. I like!”

“Me too! And it will be all mine in a week. I’ll make the last payment to the finance company and then I’ll own it outright!”

“You borrowed money to buy car? Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to use up all my cash. It’s common in the US to do so. I’m hoping for my next car. I don’t have to, but it depends on when I buy it and how expensive it is.”

“What shall we do this week, Stepa?”

“That’s really up to you. I don’t have anything planned except to spend time with you.”

“Good. Is fine to just be together. I do not need to sightsee. What about dinner? We go out?”

“We can, but I planned to cook for you. Is that OK?”

“Is strange that man cooks, but I will try your cooking!”

I decided to jab a very, very small needle into my aristocratic girlfriend, who denied she was an aristocrat.

“I’m a pretty good cook, Tanya! I also clean, do laundry, iron, wash dishes, and all kinds of other things that you have servants to do for you.”

“Yes, I suppose you must, because you have no wife and no position that grants such things. Father gets them because of service to Soviet Union. The people grant these things for his dedicated service!”

Now THAT I wasn’t going to let go.

“Really? Come on, Tanya. It’s just the same privilege that rich people, aristocrats, and government leaders grant themselves all over the world. You traded the Tsars for Commissars and your family ended up at the top of the heap!”

She frowned, “You believe this to be true, Stepa?”

“I’m a capitalist and a republican, with a little ‘r’. Of course I do. My problem with your characterization is that somehow the people approve, when the people in the USSR actually have no real say. The Party runs the country, does it not?”

“Yes, on behalf of Russian people!”

“Just as our government runs on behalf of the people! Except your propaganda says the rich are exploiting the poor by using the government. I say it’s no different in the USSR. In the end, both systems are horribly corrupt and it’s only a matter of time before they both collapse, though I believe your system will collapse before ours.”

“World socialism will triumph, Stepa, is known as truth!”

“I think you’ll find very different opinions in the US about that, Tanya!” I grinned. “But there is no need to argue politics now. I’m sorry I raised the issue.”

Of course, given she was going to school in Boston, maybe she wouldn’t find different opinions. It wasn’t called the People’s Republic of Massachusetts for nothing!

“Is OK. I know you have different belief. Is OK. Is problem for much later. For now, I wish to know what has happened with your special girl and why she is not with you. Was she not to be with you by now?”

“Yes, she was. But her father died from a heart attack at the end of May, just before my trip to Sweden. She decided to stay in Ohio with her mom for a year.”

“Is very sad,” she said, then she frowned. “Stepa — I not understand. Why you not tell me of this before? Is two months passed!”

“Yes, but I saw no point in burdening you with this. It was simply a matter of telling you that it was OK to visit me and that you could share my bed.”

“But is big change in your life, Stepa. You did not share!”

I nodded, “You’re correct. I’m sorry, Tanya. Can you forgive me?”

“Is second time I must forgive. First was you not calling me. Now is not telling me important thing. This is not good, Stephen Rayevich.”

Her use of my full name told me just how bothered she was by what I had done, or actually, not done. She was expecting to share in my life and I wasn’t sharing.

“No, it’s not good, Tanya. I came to your bed and now I don’t share my life with you. I admit that I’ve made a grave mistake.”

“Yes. Learn lesson, please. Sometime you must tell me life story, Stepa.”

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